


Coffee's For Closers

by BeccyTheChopper



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 22:12:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccyTheChopper/pseuds/BeccyTheChopper
Summary: Isak is struggling to recover from the mess he made over his crush on Jonas, when he meets a cute and flirty barista. The coffeeshop AU that literally nobody asked for.





	Coffee's For Closers

**Author's Note:**

> So I started planning this just before Christmas, when (believe it or not) there wasn't a single evak coffeeshop AU out there. Title is from the fob song of the same name, and kudos to q for the suggestion- previously titled The (Shipped) Gold Standard  
> This is the first fic I've posted in years, and I'm not great at keeping on schedule what with work and everything but I'll do my best to update semi-regularly.

 

**Lørdag 09:15**

  Isak groaned at the knocking on his door, and buried his face into the pillow, grumbling out a “Go away!” even as Eskild shoved the door open and walked in.

  “Hey, baby Jesus. Come on, up, up, up! You’ve been sulking in your room for days now, we’re going out and we’re getting coffee, come on!”  
  Isak shook his head and pulled the duvet up over his shoulders. “I went out last night. I think I’m dying. Leave me.”  
  Eskild just tutted and tugged the duvet off of him, handing him a glass of water. “Come on, drink up. Some caffeine and sugar will help, I promise. Now come on, you’ve hardly spoken to me or Linn in weeks, we’ve missed your grumpy teenage charm.”  
  Isak sighed and sat up, grasping the water and taking a couple of sips, frowning up at Eskild. “Fine. Just.. give me a few minutes to wake up and get dressed.”

  Eskild smiled wide and bounced back out of the room. For someone that had to be hungover too, Isak wondered how on earth he could wake up this full of energy, but he guessed it probably had something to do with the guy that had snuck out at 5AM and woken Isak up by tripping over the pile of shoes by the door.

  Isak pulled himself out of bed with a groan, slipping his jeans on and grabbing a shirt from the floor and sniffing it. It was, if not clean, at least wearable, and so he tugged it on over his head, looking at his messy hair in the mirror and sighing, before shoving a snapback on to hide the way his curls were springing all over the place, as untameable as ever. He grabbed a hoodie on his way out, finishing the rest of the water Eskild had brought and dumping the now-empty glass in the sink as he scooped up his keys and wallet from the counter (where he’d apparently left them last night), and then he was ready to go.

  The journey wasn’t a long one on the tram, but he simply closed his eyes and rested his head against the window, letting his mind wonder and trusting Eskild to let him know when they were there. He let the trip blur out into white noise, mainly focusing on how crappy he felt. The walk from the stop to Kaffebrenneriet was a short one, and Eskild was distracting enough for Isak to swallow the queasy feeling in his gut- he was, of course, reluctant to admit that maybe Eskild was right, and that fresh air and being up and about was helping. “Why are we even coming all the way out here, anyway? I mean, no offence, but we have coffeeshops closer to home. Or that fancy coffee machine you got the other month and still refuse to let us touch. Then we wouldn’t have even had to leave.”  
  Eskild rolled his eyes and shrugged slightly, looking towards the coffeeshop. “It’s about socialising, baby Jesus! KB has the nicest atmosphere, and the- uh, the muffins are really good!”

  Isak raised an eyebrow, and followed Eskild as he pushed the door open, sharing an unimpressed look with Linn, who had been equally unwilling to leave the flat, but had given in when he’d brought up that she owed him and could pay him back by paying for his coffee. Isak swallowed, and wondered if his stomach was settled enough for him to have his usual sugary coffee order. He told Eskild and Linn to get their orders and take a seat while he made up his mind, and stared up at the menu board for a while, sort of zoning out while pretending he was struggling to make up his mind.

  Once Isak felt a little more ready to order (and a little less like he might puke), he stepped up to the counter and opened his mouth, only for the words to die in his throat as the barista turned to him. He was tall, with striking blue eyes, gravity-defying hair, and a jaw that could cut glass, and Isak was surprised by the fierce spike of _want_ that surged through him. He had never felt like this, not even with that whole Jonas mess, and he let out a stuttered curse, feeling the burn in his cheeks and trying to pull himself together. “Sorry, uh, I’d like a- um, can I have a hazelnut latte, with extra cream, please?”

  The guy looked at him, and raised his eyebrows once- which had no right being so _fucking_ attractive, honestly- before nodding and taking his payment. Isak was barely holding it together, but at least he wasn’t worrying about his hangover anymore, right?

  “Can I get your name?”

  This guy’s voice was gorgeous. Deep, rough, and smooth, and Isak just _knew_ in his bones that he’d be imagining that later tonight. “Uh. What?”  
  “Your name. For the cup.”  
  “Oh. Uh. Isak?” Isak frowned, and tried to catch a glimpse of the guy’s name badge without being too obvious, but he couldn’t see it properly from this angle.  
  “Here we go. Hazelnut latte for… Uh. Isak?” He was so wrapped up in thinking about the guy, and the way his fingers were so long and elegant as they were wrapped around the mug to hand it over, that he almost missed the soft, teasing smile that had played at the corners of his mouth and lit up his eyes.

  He stuttered out his thanks, then walked over to Eskild and Linn, unable to wipe the small smile off his face, even though he was sure that his cheeks were burning red. He took a seat, and realised that there was no need for Even to ask his name. First of all, they didn’t really do that here- it’s not like this place was fucking Starbucks, and second of all, he was staying in. With a mug. Which obviously wasn’t going to be written on. He propped his chin on his hand and frowned, picking up his mug and taking a sip, only now noticing that there was no cream on top. _Damn._ He was sure he’d asked for extra.  
  He stood, ignoring Eskild and Linn’s curious looks, and headed back over to the counter, glad the guy had no other customers, and raising his eyebrows at the barista’s shit-eating grin. There was no way he hadn’t done this on purpose, but Isak couldn’t figure it out. At least from this angle he could read the guy’s nametag. _Even._  
  “Uh, sorry, just… there’s no cream on my drink, and I’m, well… pretty sure I asked for extra.”  
  Even just grinned at him, canister of whipped cream already in hand, and eyes still teasing. “Yes, you did. I’m so sorry, I must have forgotten.” He took the drink and shook the whipped cream with an overly dramatic flourish, before topping the drink. Isak expected that to be the end of it, and made to take the mug back, but Even continued to load it on, not stopping until there was a mountain of cream on top almost the height of the mug itself, making eye contact with Isak the entire time. Then he shot him a smug grin, and raised. “That enough for you, Isak?”

  Isak couldn’t think of a response to, well, whatever the fuck was going on here, so he stuttered out a thank you and turned to hurry back to his table, slipping into the seat next to Eskild and burying his face in his hands for a moment, before risking a glance back at Even, to see him staring unashamedly at him. He swallowed and grabbed a spoon to start working on the whipped cream, rolling his eyes at the look on Eskild’s face. “That’s a lot of cream, Isak.”  
  Isak just shrugged, and kept his eyes on the cream in front of him. “So. You going to tell us the real reason you dragged us here?”  
  Eskild sighed dramatically and sat back in his chair. “Not like it matters anymore. He’s not working today. My love has left me, Isak!”  
  Isak rolled his eyes slightly, because really he should’ve figured out that Eskild had dragged them all here for a hot barista.  
  Eskild straightened again, and cast a look towards the counter. “It’s not all bad, though. I mean, the barista today is even hotter than him, don’t you-”  
  “No.” Isak had cut him off before he’d even realised he was speaking. “No. Not him, you’re not hitting on that guy, not in front of me.”  
  Eskild let out a long-suffering sigh and took a sip of his drink. “Isak, baby, you need to get over this. If you keep having problems with me hitting on guys, I might have to rethink-“  
  Isak let out a soft huff, but there was no way to say that he wasn’t being homophobic, but Even was _his_ without outing himself, which really wasn’t something he was gonna do in the middle of a coffeeshop while he was hungover. “It’s not like that, Guru, I promise. I just. Not him, okay?”

  Eskild and Linn finished up before Isak did, what with his mountain of whipped cream and the fact that his drink was apparently a large, but once they were all done, they stood and left. The queue had picked up a little, with the people that were out this early on Saturday needing a caffeine boost to function, but Even still met Isak’s eyes as he left and shot him a grin. Isak replayed that moment for the rest of the day.

  He’d never see the guy again, in all likelihood, but that was okay. It meant, if anything, that Even was safe to crush on, that it wouldn’t end in jealousy and disaster like his crush on Jonas had, because it would be, at most, a fleeting infatuation that he could then ignore and bury until he had the stomach to make out with Emma at a party again.

 

 

**Søndag 21:42**

 

  Isak was propped up in bed when he heard a soft knock on his door, and was surprised to hear Eskild ask if he could come in, since he usually didn’t bother asking. He frowned, and settled so he was sitting properly against the wall, before telling Eskild he could come in.

  Eskild made his way through the doorway, pushing the door closed behind him and shoving a bowl of pasta at Isak. “You haven’t eaten a proper meal today. Is everything okay?”

  Instead of clamming up like he wanted to, Isak took the bowl, and speared some pasta, eating it slowly. “I don’t know. Can we… talk?”

  Eskild looked surprised for a moment, before his expression softened into that familiar concerned one that sometimes pisses Isak off, but right now? It bubbled warm in his chest, the reminder that yeah, maybe his mum was crazy, and maybe his dad was a dick, but he still had family that cared about him. Eskild perched on the corner of Isak’s bed and just waited for him to speak.  
  “How did you… sorry if this is a personal question, but how did you know for sure you were gay? That you, like, liked a guy in _that_ way?”

  Eskild looked thoughtful for a moment, as though he was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know. I went through a lot of time thinking I must be broken, because I didn’t understand what my friends were on about when they talked about girls. And I’d love to tell you that there was some switch that flipped and I just knew, but that wasn’t how it went. It took a lot of time, a lot of worrying, a lot of stressing, and then I was just sat at dinner with a few friends one day when I realised that I wanted the waiter’s number. And I fucking got it, and we kissed, and it was great. But it can be hard to tell the difference sometimes, between friend feelings and romantic feelings. Why do you ask?”

  Isak swallowed and looked down, thinking about the uneasy bubble and acid burn of jealousy in his gut, even now, when Jonas talked about Eva, even as it mixed with the hollow ache of sickening guilt over what he’d done. “I had a crush on Jonas. For… the longest time. And it was my fault, Eskild, they broke up because of what I did, because I couldn’t stand him being happy with someone that wasn’t me. How fucked up is that? He was never going to like me back, and I knew it.”  
  Eskild let out a soft noise and reached for Isak, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “Hey now, Isak. It’s a cliché for a reason. You’re discovering your sexuality, and here’s this guy who you already love and care about and know is amazing and you get on really well and suddenly you’re working out that you like guys. It’s only natural. And it’s hard, because you’re just friends and sometimes they’re straight. I _know_. And yeah, you did something shitty. But jealousy does twisted stuff to people, Isak, and the fact that you know it’s fucked up means you’ve grown, okay? You’re growing, baby, and you’re moving on, and I am so fucking proud of you, sweetheart. And one day you will find someone beautiful and perfect and as deserving of your love as you are of his, okay?”  
  Isak just sniffed, and if he held Eskild tightly until he fell asleep against his chest, then nobody needed to know.

 

 

**Tirsdag 18:53**

 

  Isak was sprawled on his bed with Eskild, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, before he gave in and pulled up the Instagram account he’d found for the coffeeshop they’d visited. He scrolled slowly through the pictures, hoping to catch a glimpse of Even, but no such luck yet.

  Without really thinking it through, he rolled onto his stomach and shoved his phone at Eskild. “Come on, show me. Which one is he? Your barista?”  
  Eskild raised an eyebrow at Isak and took the phone slowly. “Is this as an apology for not letting me hit on the other hot barista?”  
  Isak scowled. “Come on, just tell me. What’s his name?”  
  Eskild sighed, but there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Elias. And he’s so hot, Isak! He’s got a little bit of that sullen grumpy teenage charm, but he’s still so beautiful… ah! Here! Looks like he’s friends with Hot Barista Number Two.”  
  Isak felt his heart rate pick up just a little as he looked, and saw Even there in the picture with another guy. They were around the same age, from the looks of things, and Even had a friendly arm slung around Elias’ shoulders. “You know, his name is Even. Not Hot Barista Number Two.”  
  Eskild’s eyebrows shot up and he eyed Isak. “Oh, is it now? Is that why you were so mad about me potentially hitting on him? It’s okay, baby, he’s safe from me, I’m going to stay true to Elias.”

  Isak elected to ignore the implication that he was crushing on Even for now, because he knew Eskild wouldn’t push him, but understood that him not denying it meant a lot coming from him. “So. Elias. Have you spoken to him?”  
  Eskild scoffed slightly. “Of course I have. I was my usual charming and irresistible self, and the only reason he didn’t kiss me then and there is because it would be unprofessional. No, I kid, I kid. I think maybe I have to play the long game here. I flirted and he got very flustered, but didn’t really respond otherwise. I think perhaps he’s figuring things out, but I was getting weirdly mixed signals. I want to go back and try again. Would you… maybe… want to come with?”

  Isak sighed, like the thought of going back didn’t make him ridiculously excited, but shrugged. “Sure, if I have to. Just let me know when you want to go, and I’ll be there, okay?”

  Eskild shot him a bright smile and nodded, before standing and stretching. “Alright. I’m gonna go eat. But I’ll hold you to that.”

  Isak waited until Eskild was nearly out of the room, before he made his confession in a low voice, “You’re right. That’s why I wanted you not to hit on Even. I like him.”

 

 

 

**Torsdag 16:05**

 

  Isak was in town killing time because Eskild had a friend over and his headphones were broken (apparently crushing on a hot barista was not enough to stop him from grindr hook-ups), so he had decided to just get out of the flat. Although it was getting towards the end of May, the temperature has plummeted again, and the cold wind was enough to have him shoving his hands in his pockets. He thought of the coffeeshop, and decided that since it was cold out, it would be no big deal if he stopped by to get a hot drink. It wouldn’t even matter if Even wasn’t there, because Isak gets hot drinks at coffeeshops all the time, and it’s not like he’s going specifically to see him, so it’s fine.

  Isak told himself that repeatedly as he pushed the door open, but he can’t stop the relieved feeling welling in his chest, or the smile that spread over his face when he caught those blue eyes behind the counter.

  He walked up, and felt a little breathless, because in the soft, cool light, Even somehow looked even more fucking stunning than he had last time, and Isak had a hard time thinking straight. He’d have figured that it would be easier now that he’d seen and spoken to Even before, but if anything it was harder. Luckily, it was quiet, and Even smiled when he headed over to the counter.

  “Hi. Can I get, uh… a hot chocolate? Wait- uh, no, actually… I could do with some caffeine so… a mocha?”  
  “Would you like cream on that?” There was a teasing lilt to Even’s voice, to the twist of his mouth, and the light in his eyes had Isak’s stomach churning.  
  Isak felt heat flare in his cheeks because _holy shit_ he’d embarrassed himself so much last time that this guy remembered him and he wanted to die.  
  Even smiled at him and took his payment, the slight brush of their fingers had that spike of want surging through Isak again and he had to remind himself that he knew absolutely nothing about this guy. He sent Even an awkward smile, watching him move as he made his drink and taking the chance while Even was distracted to simply stare, watching the way his muscles moved as he worked.

  “A mocha for Isak?”

  And Isak reached for the drink, but instead of leaving, he looked around. He was the only person in the place apart from Even, so he took a sip of his drink and propped an elbow against the counter, wetting his lips nervously before summoning up all his courage to speak. “So. Even.” And if Even’s brows shot up at the fact that Isak had clearly not read his name off his badge just now, Isak ignored that. “What do you listen to when you listen to music?”  
  “Me? Oh, I’m into a lot of stuff. It really depends what fits the mood, you know? I like to treat what music I listen to as, like, the soundtrack. Like, my life is a movie and I’m the director of it, and literally only the best and most appropriate musical choices will do. What about you?”  
  Isak bit back a laugh, because he shouldn’t feel so endeared by that fucking borderline pretentious answer, but anyway. “Oh, I’m into, like. 90’s hip-hop. N.W.A. right now, that’s the shit you listen to when you really want to feel, you know?”  
  Even grinned. “That’s what gets you going? N.W.A? Have you listened to Nas?”  
  Isak paused, and suddenly he realised he didn’t want to look stupid. “…Nas?” He tried again. “Nas? Yeah, I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

  Even snorted and shook his head a little, eyes almost fond. “Yeah? It doesn’t sound like it. You should check it out.”

  Isak smiled and took another sip of his mocha, sighing softly, somehow not feeling as embarrassed to be caught out as he had expected to be. “Yeah, okay. I will.”  
  Even was looking at him something loaded in his eyes, and he opened his mouth a few times as if he wanted to speak, but no words made it past his lips. Isak waited, patient, for him to figure out whatever it was he seemed to want to say, now resting both elbows on the counter and leaning in a little, watching him unashamedly.

 

  “Isak? Hi, Isak!” He was ripped from his study of Even by a bright, annoyingly familiar female voice, and he could barely conceal his wince as he turned to her.  
  “Hi, Emma.”  
  She smiled at him, and bounced a little awkwardly on her toes. “So, um, did you get the messages I sent you?”  
  He had, and he hadn’t read them, because to him Emma was nothing more than a point to prove. His friends had told him he couldn’t get with Emma, so he’d shown them, and proven he was straight, but now she kept bugging him. Did that make him an asshole? Probably, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the smooth, heterosexual façade he’d built for himself.  
  “Oh. Uh. No, I don’t think I did.”  
  Her face fell, and he tried to feel bad, but really, he’d given her enough hints already, hadn’t he? He wasn’t fucking interested.  
  “Right. Well. I’m having a pregame tomorrow, and I think it would be cool if you and your friends could come.” And. Shit. He already knew his friends would kill him if he turned down the chance to go to a first year party and hook up.  
  “Oh. Right. Well. Maybe, I’ll see what Jonas says.” He grabbed his cup, suddenly not in the mood to linger, aware that Even had had his back to them this entire time. “Later, Even, okay?”  
  
  If he hadn’t been so focused on getting the fuck out of there, he might have noticed the disappointed expression on Even’s face.

 

 

 

**Fredag 21:05**

  Emma’s party was as uncomfortable as Isak had expected. It was too loud, too busy, and he wasn’t drunk enough for this. He set his jaw, determined, and drained the beer clutched in his hand, hoping it would be enough to set him over the edge and make even the thought of kissing her something he could stomach.  
  They were dancing, and thankfully the music was loud enough that talking was basically impossible. When she leaned in to kiss him, he caught Jonas’ approving look from across the room, and let it happen, settling his arms on her waist and trying to get lost in the feeling.  
  Instead, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss Even like this, bodies moving together and bass throbbing in his veins. How different would it feel, with a hard body against his own, having to tilt his head up instead of down?

  When Emma tried to pull him into her room, though, he blurted out a vague excuse and hurried to find Jonas instead, shrugging at his raised eyebrows, not offering an explanation, and letting Jonas draw his own conclusions. “You got any weed on you?” Jonas seemed to take that at face value, and they headed to the bathroom, sliding into the bath where Mahdi and Magnus were already smoking, reaching for the makeshift bong and taking a hit, letting the sweet smoke surround him.

  With weed clouding his mind and his boys laughing next to him, Isak couldn’t help but think that maybe things were going to work out. Maybe this thing with Even wasn’t totally hopeless, and maybe, _just maybe_ his boys really did have his back, no matter what.

 


End file.
